The Warrior and the Rose
by RaewynThorne
Summary: The Hero of Brightwall makes a decision, but what happens next? Fable 3, early in the Main Campaign. One-shot, basically PWP. Rated M for a reason. Why has no one, to my knowledge anyway, explored this pairing; it seems to sweet, and so obvious.


Walter, Albion, etc. belong to Lionhead et/al. I'm just borrowing them to play with for a while.

* * *

Rose returned to Brightwall tired and aching, but flushed with accomplishment. Saker, for all his lawless ways, had proven to be a man with his own admittedly unorthodox sense of honor. Nevertheless, she would be happy to get back to Brightwall, out of this getup, and back to Walter.

She smiled a little, thinking of her mentor. In Saker's fighting ring, facing the first serious threat of her life, she had come to some realizations. Funny how staring down two feet of steel in the hands of a ruthless bandit put things in perspective. She had resolved that she would not let another day pass with her true feelings kept hidden.

Rose had known Sir Walter Beck since she was a little girl, and had idolized him just as long. When she had first begun to dream of kisses, it was Walter's handsome face and hazel eyes she imagined. Though she and Elliot had experimented as adolescents will, their breathless fumblings had never fired Rose's imagination like the deep, gruff voice and steady presence of the man who had been her guardian and mainstay as long as she could remember.

Now that she had fled the castle and put her childhood fully behind her at last, she had begun to realize her imagination and her affection had merged into something more, something deeper, something far more adult. She had been struggling with her emotions ever since their midnight flight from Bowerstone, and the clarity she'd experienced in the bandit camp had firmed her resolve.

Walter greeted her at the Brightwall Tavern, and she related to him her success with Saker. They discussed what she would need to do to ensure Brightwall's willingness to lend aid to Sabine and his Dwellers. Walter was pleased, and assured her she would be able to find plenty of ways to earn the trust of the villagers. By then it had grown late, and Walter announced his intention to seek his bed.

"Walter, I…" she hesitated, unsure of the words. "Can we speak…in private?"

"Of course, princess. After you."

They entered the small room, which was in fact the second largest room the tiny inn possessed, and Walter closed the door behind them. He offered her the only chair and stood beside the window. Rose refused the chair and stood facing him a moment. Tension and uncertainty played across her delicate features, and Walter was puzzled at her sudden shyness.

Rose paced, fidgeting with her hands, the back of the chair she'd refused. At last she took a deep breath, and gathering her resolve, she began.

"Walter, I have known you as long as I can remember. You have been the most important person in my life. I have always loved you, first as a child, it is true, but now…."

Walter knew what was coming. She'd had a crush on him as a teen, and he was not surprised that now, facing these trials, she'd revert to her adolescent adorations. He would not allow her to continue, however. They were both too old for such things, though for very different reasons. "Your highness, don't be saying what you're about to say. You've had your first battle, and you've done me proud. But don't let the thrill of it make you say things you don't..."

"No Walter, this isn't about the battle. True, the fight made me realize it was time to speak, but what I feel for you…Walter, I love you...as a woman loves a man. I have since I first began to know what that meant."

Walter's heart twisted. For the years now since Rose had begun to mature he'd fought against his own growing awareness of her. The months when she'd harbored her teenage crush had been torture for him. Now she had blossomed from the girl he cherished into a stunningly beautiful woman. In the last weeks as he had watched her step into her role as a future ruler and begun to realize her potential, she had taken his breath away, and his dreams were more tortured now than in her teen years.

Looking at her now, the candlelight dancing on her face, he cursed himself for the flush of pleasure that rushed through him at her words. He knew he had to stop her, even if it tore him apart. "Don't be ridiculous! What about Elliot?"

"Elliot was a boy, and always would have been. I mourn his loss, but he could never have been what you are to me." She implored him with her gaze. "I loved him as a brother…" she laughed bitterly at that. "…as the brother I never had. But I never loved him as I love you. I never desired him as I…."

Her cheeks colored but she didn't look away. "…as I desire you. He never inflamed me, Walter, never set me on fire with..."

"Princess, I'm more than old enough to be your father!" His voice was rough with suppressed emotion. "Hells, I'm older than your father." He backed away from her. She couldn't know how she was tormenting him with her words of passion and her wide, trusting eyes. "You can't possibly…"

Rose stepped closer and put her arms around his neck. "I can, Walter, and I do. Please…." She searched his eyes until he wrenched his gaze from hers, fighting the urge to gather her to him.

"Princess… Rose, you are still a young woman, with your whole life ahead of you. I will not…."

"And I want you in my life, with me, as you always have been, and more than that. I want you, Walter…"

He tried to remover her arms from around him, feebly, not wishing to hurt her, and, though he hated himself for it, not really wanting to push her away. "No, Rose, please."

Her nearness stirred something in him he'd kept long hidden, something he wasn't ready to admit, even to himself. She would be Queen, she was the hope of Albion. He was only an old soldier. He wasn't fit for the likes of her, even if he hadn't held her in his arms they day she was born. He shoved his longing for her down, willing himself to stand strong, though he doubted he'd ever sleep peacefully again.

"Walter, I've seen how you look at me sometimes, when you think I don't notice." He squeezed his eyes shut, shame heating his face.

"I am not a child anymore, Walter. I am a woman, and I know you have seen it. I know you feel it." She pushed herself closer to him, forcing him to feel her womanly curves. He groaned, feeling the lush fullness of her breasts and the swell of her hips against him.

"I can't…" he said weakly, anguish in his voice. He knew he should refuse this, refuse her, but his will was weakening. His head swam with the intoxicating fragrance of her, spicy and sweet, with a hint of woodsmoke and leather, and underneath he could detect the musk her desire. Against his will, he felt the heat within him rising, swelling in answer to her eagerness.

Rose felt his growing hardness against her, and she gloried in this confirmation of his desire for her. She rocked her hips to grind against him again, drawing another agonized groan from him. She raised herself up on tiptoe and pulled his head down, meeting his lips with her own. Walter shut his eyes, his lips tight, his last bastion of resistance crumbling, praying she would relent if he didn't respond to her kiss.

But gods, he wanted to respond, to taste her mouth, to savor the feminine softness she offered him. Her lips on his burned him like a brand, her curves against him awakening a passion he didn't think himself still capable of feeling. She pulled away just far enough to seek his eyes. "Walter…please look at me."

He shook his head. He didn't want to look at her, terrified of the fire he knew he would see in her gaze. He didn't mean to, so help him, but the roughness in her voice opened his eyes for him. The emerald pools of her eyes, swimming with unshed tears, blazed with a hunger that called to him.

"I want you, Walter, I need you." She brushed feather soft kisses over his cheeks and lips with every phrase. "Please, love me. Make love to me. You want to, I can feel it. Don't refuse me, Walter, please…"

Something in him gave way then, releasing a flood of hunger for the woman in his arms. With a groan he claimed her mouth, forcefully parting her lips with his tongue, and plundering the sweetness of her. Running her hands through his hair, Rose opened to him with a deep moan, her tongue meeting his. A whimper escaped her throat as his arms went around her, making her feel as safe as they had her entire life. His hands roamed her back to pull her close, his hard length pressing against her belly.

They broke the kiss gasping for air, and his lips hungrily sought her throat, kissing and sucking, sending shivers through her body. She fumbled with the buckles on his doublet, struggling to open it, then finally dragging it down over his shoulders. He let go of her just long enough to fling the garment to the floor before his arm came around her again. He pushed the top of her blouse down over her shoulder and followed with his mouth, licking and kissing from the curve where neck met shoulder and across her collarbone.

She pushed her way under his shirt and eagerly explored his back and sides, loving the feel of the firm muscle and warm skin under her hands. He shivered under her touch, and his mouth found hers again. Her hands roamed his back, her fingertips gliding over the knots and ridges of old scars.

She pulled back from him long enough to pull his shirt over his head, her hands returning to explore the hard muscled contours of his chest. Hands never stilling, she kissed his shoulder, nipping as he had done, darting licks into the hollows of his collarbone, then biting gently at his neck, nipping his earlobe. Walter shuddered at her hot breath in his ear, reeling. Her passion was wild and heady, and he felt drunk with it.

He picked her up then, and laid her on the bed, kissing her again. With shaking hands he reached for the ties of her blouse and she moved his hands away and untied the knot. Her arms rose and she swept away the garment, then laid back her arms wide, inviting him to look his fill. Her skin gleamed in the candlelight, and her fiery hair spilled across the coverlet like a nimbus. She still wore the bandit's trousers and boots, her long legs sheathed in tight black leather, the waistband riding low across her hips. She looked like sin itself, and Walter swallowed hard.

He knelt over her carefully, almost reverently, his hands skimming over her skin like a breath. He traced her slender shoulders, the curve of her side, the taut plane of her stomach, and finally the voluptuous curve of her breast. He lowered his head to place kisses in the valley between, as he took one swelling globe gently in his hand, his thumb brushing the nipple. She arched her back with a gasp, and he moved to take the rosy peak in his mouth, flicking the pebbled tip with his tongue before sucking gently. She clutched the back of his head, and he alternated between teasing the sensitive nipple and suckling, making her writhe beneath him. With a last flourish, he moved to indulge the other breast with the same loving attention.

Rose was moaning, her hands roving over his back, her hips rocking, blindly seeking his solidity against her burning center. At last, she pulled him back up, and he claimed her mouth again in another searing kiss. She reached down to open his belt, struggling with the buckle.

Walter stood then, removed his boots, and unbuckled his belt. His hands stilled on the laces of his breeches, and he looked at her, flushed and panting before him. "Princess," his voice choked "Are you sure?" If she changed her mind now he knew there wouldn't be enough ale in all of Albion in which to drown himself, but he'd leave if she told him to.

She smiled, and her voice was clear and strong. "I want you to take me, I have longed for you…. Come and love me, my dear Walter."

He opened his breeches and stepped out of them, then paused. Rose met his eyes a moment longer then let her gaze move downward. He was powerfully built and hard muscled, with broad shoulders and a deep barrel chest. His stomach showed just he slightest hint of softness, but tapered to narrow hips and powerful thighs. His torso and upper arms were marked with scars, most faded to a faint tracery of silver with time. His manhood stood proudly erect, and he made no move to cover himself, letting her look as she wished.

Walter felt his member grow harder still as her eyes grew wide at the sight of his length, and her lips parted, a look of hunger washing over her face. Gods, what a woman she was! She reached out and stroked her long fingers over his length, her thumb brushing over the weeping tip. His hips flexed involuntarily, and she smiled wickedly. She took him firmly in her grasp and stroked him smoothly, until he groaned and gently set her hand aside, knowing he would not last long under her ministrations.

He knelt on the bed, his hands moving to the waistband of the bandit's trousers while laving her hipbones with tonguing kisses. She helped him, lifting her hips off the bed to slide them down to her ankles, where she toed off her boots and dropped the whole to the floor.

Walter leaned over her again, kissing her deeply. "You are magnificent, my Rose," he murmured, his voice hoarse with emotion. He resolved to go slowly and worship his cherished Rose gently, ignoring the roaring need that filled him. He caressed her sides, his hand gliding over the swell of her hip, down over her thigh. His hand then glided slowly up the inside of her thigh, and he guided her legs apart.

His stroking fingers quested higher, brushing the soft curls that lay between her silky thighs. She panted heavily, her eyes closed, her mouth wide. Pulling back to watch her face, he let his fingers part those curls and she bucked against his hand. A rush of heat and slickness met his touch and he groaned. Rose, his Rose was soaking wet with her desire for him. He felt his control slipping, and he longed to claim her fiercely, with all the thwarted desire and frustration he'd felt for years. He held back with effort.

He slid a finger gently into her warm depths, his thumb sketching delicate arcs over her tiny swelling nub. She bucked again and moaned. He was inflamed by her responsiveness, and his fevered hunger for her threatened to overtake him. "Walter, please…" She pulled at his arms, and unable to move him, she reached down to grasp his hips, frantically pulling him to her.

He nudged her legs open further and positioned himself between her thighs. She took his face between her hands, looking deep into him, her own eyes dark with need. Walter felt he could not hold back much longer, he needed her, badly. Still, he paused, his eyes seeking hers, asking one last time, his own need pleading for an affirmative. "Princess…?"

Her only reply was her hands moving down to cup his buttocks and pull him down to her. When he resisted a moment more, she dug her nails into his flesh, her eyes hungry. He yielded then, and slid himself home inside her dripping heat in a single heart-stopping stroke. She gave a gasping cry. "Yes, gods, Walter!"

Walter reeled, lost in the feeling of her body surrounding him. He had all but forgotten what it was like to lie with a woman, but then, he didn't think there had ever been a woman like her. He pulled out slowly, then sheathed himself in her again, setting a gentle pace. He closed his eyes, fighting to hold back and knowing the sight of her, breathless, shaking and moaning under him would push him over. With every stroke, Rose uttered a soft cry, and her hips rocked up to meet him.

"Look at me, Walter." He did, and knew he could hold nothing back, not from her, not from this woman he'd loved half his life, who deserved everything, demanded everything. He leaned in, guiding her legs around his waist, and loved her as her eyes begged him to. He drove into her, all thought of restraint fled, his body driving hers into the mattress. She met him thrust for thrust, her cries louder, her fingers raking his back, her mouth on his neck, his shoulder.

"Yes, Walter, yes…" Her whisper, forced out between her cries, urged him on, and he felt himself nearing the brink. He slid a hand underneath her, clutching her lush bottom and tilting her hips so his every thrust slammed home to the very base of him, their bodies meeting with a almost bruising impact. She shuddered, her own completion near. Walter slid his other hand between their surging bodies, his thumb finding her swollen nub. A few circles of his callused digit was all it took, and she flew apart, her teeth finding his shoulder and her nails leaving welts across his back, and he found the pain exquisitely sweet.

Her entire body shook and her hips tilted toward him, inner walls clenching around his aching length. The feel of her quaking in pleasure shattered the last of his restraint, and he slammed into her hard and desperate, feeling himself tighten almost unbearably before his release took him and he came with a strangled roar, emptying himself into the scorching depths of his love, his sweet Rose.

He sagged over her, panting from exertion, careful not to lean his weight too heavily upon her. Her own chest was heaving with each gasping breath, but she drew him into a fevered kiss. Not breaking the kiss, he rolled to his side, drawing her with him. He chuckled against her lips, and she pulled back to look up at him quizzically.

"My princess, my Rose, I didn't know I had it in me. You have made me…a very happy man. You've made me feel more alive than I have in a very long time."

"I have waited so very long for you, my love." she answered him.

Together they drifted to sleep at last.


End file.
